


The Lord of Storm's end

by Ravenclawpride06



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawpride06/pseuds/Ravenclawpride06
Summary: Arya is pissed when her family still want to marry her off. Despite everything they'd been through.Post warI wrote half of this before season 8 episode 2 and half after. Originally I wasn't going to write a previous intimate relationship but I decided to try and keep it cannon.





	The Lord of Storm's end

'My Lady, your Lord brother and Lady sister much desire to speak with you,' the serving girl says as she bows out of the room.

Arya sighs and rubs her forehead, resting it in her hands. The battle of Winterfell was over and she had been planning her trip down the Kingsroad. No one knew of the trip. Well, she thought, maybe Gendry suspected. He had been looking at her with suspicion these past two days.

She got up and made her way to Sansa's chambers, all the while thinking she should slip away undetected as soon as possible. She reaches the heavy wooden door, a weight in her stomach which she recognised as the unknown made her pause before knocking. The sound of her fist echoed down the long corridor, bouncing relentlessly off the stone walls before fading into the distance. She smiled to see Jon and Sansa, once at odds, sitting peaceably together and laughing as if one or the other had just made a great joke.

'Arya, dear sister,' Sansa exuded warmth and it was hard not to be swept up in it. 

She sank into the chair opposite the two of them, wincing at the injury on her back that had not yet healed. The looks of concern marring her siblings faces did little to ease Ayra's nerves and she waved them away with indifference. 

It was Jon who spoke next, 'forgive me little sister. We have some news that may upset you, but if you would do us the courtesy of hearing all we have to say, we would both be grateful.'

Ah. So her nerves and the weight in the pit of her stomach were justified. She had been trained to use all her senses but being back at Winterfell amongst her loved ones had dulled her ability to read them.

She waved her hand once more, go on.

'Now the war with the dead is over we have been looking at our alligences. We're not in a strong position as we stand right now but there are some important seats that we intend on filling.'

Her mind was working overtime and the option it had landed on immediately was that they wanted her to run her own house. She balked at the idea of leaving Winterfell and her siblings so soon after finding them again. She felt emotion prick at the back of her eyes and fought it down, covering it with a hard layer of ice.

Sansa shot a look at Jon and took over his faltering speech. 'We mean to make a match with you and the new Lord of Storm's end.'

Ayra's head snapped up, 'What?' She spat. 'You're going to marry me off after everything. After all you've been through.  Fuck what honour demands, I'm not some prize pig.'

Sansa shot a look at Jon said I told you so and told Arya that it had all been Jon's idea, which surprised her even more. She glowered at him, something she had never done in all her life. 

'Arya,' He tried to reason. Tried and failed. 'I really think if you listen a little longer you might not be so mad.' 

'No.' Arya says defiance burning in her grey eyes. She stands and leaves. 'Do what you will the pair of you but leave me out of it.' She turns on her heel and the pair of them were left staring at the door.

'That went well,' Sansa snorts in an unladylike manner. Jon raises both eyebrows and continues to stare at the door.

Arya angrily shoves some things in a pack, checks her weapon belt is secure and steals down to the kitchen adding some bread and wine to her supplies. She pauses at the door but steps out into the yard under the cover of growing darkness. She crosses stealthily to the gate where she stops dead in her tracks. The fires of the forge are still lit and her heart gives a strange pull even as her body slips through the gate unnoticed. If she were to seek him out now, he would talk her out of it.

She's walked for half a day before she hears the wolves howling in the distance.   
'You did what?' Gendry said in disbelief. Jon looked as if he had been expecting a different reaction. 

'I thought it a good match,' Jon said innocently.

Gendry winced, 'it might have been, except you approached it the wrong way entirely. When she comes back, let me ask her.' Gendry isn't surprised she'd run the length of the seven Kingdoms to avoid the question. It had taken him two hours to convince Jon not to send anyone after her. A moon had passed and he was expecting her any day. 

Though it was a statement and not a question, Jon nodded his agreement. 

Arya settled for her final rest, staying far off the King's Road so as not to be disturbed. She had built a small fire and lay beside it stretching her limbs. She no longer had any pain from the battle and Cersei had been quick and easy to take out, like a cat pouncing on a mouse. She had been alone in her chambers defenseless and had refused to shout for her monstrous guard believing Arya no threat until she stabbed her in the stomach over and over again. Rumours had reached the north with Jaime that Cersei was pregnant but Arya had seen that this was not the case. Cersei had her moon blood and she did not seem surprised by the fact.

Arya had left knowing no one would discover her until morning. Three days passed before she started passing those with news of the queen's death. The capital was in turmoil and there were those looking north to the dragon queen and wondering why she had not yet come to take her place. 

Arya laughed, perhaps she and Jon were battling for the iron throne over a game of Cyvasse. She knew that in reality Jon didn't want to be King. She lay her head on the bunched up cloak had let her heavy eyes slide closed. All the while wondering what was waiting for her at Winterfell. 

Gendry was relieved when he saw her sitting at the top table once more. It was hot and crowded in the great hall even still but she flashed him a smile through the milling people. Later Jon gave him a look as if to make sure he remembered his promise. Like he could forget.

He came to her, as he had on the night before the battle for Winterfell. He closed his eyes and fleeting images crossed his mind. They had not been intimate since but she had a smile he knew was reserved for him. She was sat with her back to the fire, looking over some papers. 

'Good evening,' she smirks, with no glance in his direction.

'My Lady,' He says gently, and there's something different in it that wasn't there before. 

She straightens, cracking her back and it makes his wonder how long she's been working at her desk. 'What are you doing?' He asks.

'Looking for another option,' she sighs in frustration and then mumbles, 'but I can't see it.'

He kneels beside her chair, hesitating before he touches her face. It still feels foreign, even after she's bedded him, she defies all expectations. She closes her eyes, 'Gendry, I have something to tell you. And it will change everything, everything I wanted for you and me. For us.'

Before she'd gone to King's landing, before she'd been told of her betrothal, her emotions shut off once again. The news had opened the old wound and Ayra's heart clenched everytime she thought of Gendry, it had taken the length of the King's Road for her to come to a realisation.

'You mean that... you would want us to be together?'

She gave a small nod of her head and looked at her inkstained hands. 'I know that you would leg ne be me, I saw it in the way you smiled at my knife throwing ability.' She laughed for a second, 'but...'

'Arya.' He whisped,  much the same way he had when she'd asked him to take her to bed. 'Arya, I want to marry you.' She moves to speak, 'Jon was wrong in the way he asked you. He should have let me do it.' Her mouth was opening and closing and he thinks he's never seen her lost for words before. 'Queen Daenerys asked me to the great hall whilst you were gone. She legitemised me.' He took a breath, 'and then she made me the Lord of Storm's end.' 

Arya only looks at him in disbelief, 'will you marry me Arya Stark.'

She unexpectedly feels wetness on her cheeks, something she never thought she would feel again. 

'I will, my Lord.'


End file.
